Sailor Draka of Bore
by Andrew Aelfwine
Summary: Usagi Ingolfsson, Draka Citizen/magical girl, only wanted a quiet swim, and perhaps a bit of barehanded puma hunting. The Gorean slavers had other ideas. Stupid ones. Sailor Moon fused with S.M. Stirling's Draka series, crossover with Norman's Gor series.
1. Meet Sailor Draka

﻿Fic: Sailor Draka of Bore  
Sailor Draka of Bore  
An extremely silly fanfic by Andrew yclept Aelfwine.  
The characters and situations of the Draka series are copyright S.M. Stirling. The characters and situations of "Sailor Moon" are copyright Takeuchi Naoko. The characters and situations of Ranma ½ are copyright Takahashi Rumiko. The characters and situations of the Gor series are copyright John Norman. They may not be used or reproduced commercially without permission. The use of these characters and situations is not to be construed as challenge to said copyright. They are merely borrowed for this work of non-commercial fanfiction, from which the author derives no financial benefit.

Warnings: Parody. Silliness. Bad garb. Sentences beginning with "Too..." Comedic violence, applied to deserving targets. Sexual references. Draka modalities, filtered through anime modalities. Cute genetically engineered post-human warriors in sailor suits. Cute genetically engineered post-human warriors out of sailor suits. Yours truly.

No Tuchux or Draka were harmed during the making of this fanfic.

* * *

Citizen Usagi Ingolfsson stood naked beside the stream. It was an early spring day, chilly and intensely fresh, and she was grateful that for once she had been given an opportunity to go swimming without her exercise turning into yet another lemon. Not that she minded the passionate encounters with her classmates and companions in the fight against the Dark Alliance and for the future foundation of the glorious Crystal Final Society, but they did make it difficult to fit in her daily laps.

The West North American Nature Preserve had proven an ideal place to spend the school holiday. Her friends, feeling less compelled to prove themselves in single combat with ferocious wild animals and feral sapients, had chosen to pass the day in less strenuous fashion, remaining at her family's hunting lodge, built on the ruins of what had been the Yankee city of Fort Collins. A smile crossed her face for a moment as she thought of sweet Mamoru Van Reenan, her future male consort, still trying to perfect the boron microcrystal stems of his armour-piercing combat roses, and her dear comrade Rei Terreblanche, Sailor Mars, working with fossil DNA and the memories of her past self to reconstruct the predatory hamsters which had prowled the red savannahs of her namesake planet in the time of the ancient Silver Domination, before the serf revolt destroyed its atmosphere and wrecked the jeweled cities and broad canals. _Which we will rebuild, as we will rebuild the glory that was the Moon Archonate._

There would be time for that later, once all the Race were ready to learn of their glorious past and magical present. For now... she sniffed at the wind. Within two kilometers' radius were two grizzly, a dozen elk, Citizen Ranma Von Shrakenberg and his/her fiancées having a very good time, an unregistered stealth-cloaked aerospace craft and _ hmmm... five unmodified male humans in desperate need of a shower. Raiders from Planet Bore, I presume, hoping to pick up some poor Servus or feral human female. Well, barehanded puma hunting has been getting a little dull._

By the scent, they'd just disembarked, and would shortly pass out of their vehicle's crude cloaking field, no doubt feeling very impressed with themselves and their ability to sneak up on their intended prey. _Should I put my clothes on? Nah... this spring air feels nicely bracing, and they have even weirder attitudes towards nudity than most ferals. Let's mess with their tiny minds._ Usagi strolled towards them, softly singing a traditional Draka children's song.

"I love you, you love me  
We of the Race are a family.  
Serfs may hate, so long as they obey,  
That's why we must fight each day."

The Gorean raiders popped into view. Two wore leather loincloths, open vests of an off-orange fur-like material, and helmets which might have been made from some sort of fuel can, with a cut-out for the face and crude bat wings riveted on the sides. Two more were dressed in kilts of red cloth and breastplates fashioned to resemble an overmuscled male torso. Their wingless helmets bore Greek-style crests. All four carried tape-wrapped sticks and hexagonal shields of crudely painted thin metal.

Their leader wore a toga-like garment, and carried no weapons but a stick with a knob at the end, decorated here and there with flashing lights as if to remind the observer that his culture did, in fact, possess batteries. "Female of Earth!" he bellowed.

"Male Feral Human of Bore!" Usagi replied, pitching her voice an octave below his. She was pleased; usually the vast vocal range her human ancestors' genetic science had given her was useful only for filling in on bass parts when there weren't enough boys to handle them, and she much preferred to sing soprano.

"It's called Gor, insolent female!"

"Ah calls it lahk Ah sees it. Your planet must be boring as all hells, given that y'all apparently felt compelled to wander all the way over here just to scream at me."

The Gorean's face went red. _Hope he doesn't make himself collapse. It's no fun when the enemy break before you can even play with them._ "Now you prance about in your false-boy clothes, and take pride in the wiles by which you destroy manly men and turn them to the weak pseudo-males of your Urth, but soon you will wear silks, collar, and brand!"

Usagi snorted laughter. "If y'all have got silks and collars, why the hell don't you wear them, 'stead of those ridiculous getups? And while we're talkin about clothes... I ain't wearin' any, boy. How come you ain't noticed? Never seen a naked woman before?"

His eyes went wide. "I... impossible! You're a free woman of Urth! You're supposed to wear clothes, until we strip them from you, thus forcing you to display submissive modalities!"

"News flash, boy. I'm Usagi Ingolfsson of the Draka, and we ain't had a nudity taboo since Happousai de Bruyn invented Martial Arts Strip Poker in 1869. And y'all are feral serfs. Stupid ones, at that, and scarce worth the trouble of breakin' to the Yoke, which is the only reason why we of the Race ain't yet bothered to squash y'all and your giant bug bosses flatter than we squashed the Yankees."

"Too," declared the Gorean leader, "you have failed once to repeat a single sentence I have said, thus demonstrating the unnatural standards of prose by which tyrannical Urthly females unman their men, who are weak and unmanly. We must teach you to respect the Pastor-Archdukes and call them by their proper description of 'giant insectoids,' not by the rude and biologically untruthful term bee-you-gee."

"And while you're at it, I suppose, you'll make me write term papers about male dominance and female submission and start my sentences off with 'Too'? And teach me to not snicker when I hear someone say 'modalities' or 'cuddly slut'?"

"Too, female of Urth, you begin to comprehend your situation!"

"I surely do. Quite obviously I'd better kill you without going through my usual 'In the Name of the Race, I will punish you' routine, because if I took the time I might have to hear another word of your drivel." Executing a flying kick that might have made Jackie Chan turn green with envy, she stove in his chest.

The fight that followed was scarce worth the description, being most unfair. Laughing, Usagi dropkicked her final victim's carcass into the upper branches of a pine tree. Grasping the stylish Drakon Transformation Pendant that hung from its platinum chain about her neck, she called out "Sailor Draka Transform!" The sight was perhaps not as titillating as usual, as she had no clothing to vanish, briefly revealing her uncensored glory, before being replaced with her black combat sailor suit, but such was life.

She keyed her transducer. _:Anyone up for a little conquest?_

_:Where?_ Rei replied, her mind voice sharp, yet tinged with fondness. _:We told Captain Samothrace we'd leave his pet Yankees alone, long's they didn't try kidnapping any more Draka to appear on that Samothracian Idol show of theirs._

_:Not Samothrace, silly. They've got to be here to ally with the Race and the Klingons when Bh'arney and the Th'ele-th'ubbies attack the Alpha Quadrant, remember?_

_:So, where?_

_:Planet Bore._

_:There? Why?_

_:Because they're too stupid to live. And they smell bad. And their prose is appalling._

_:Didn't the Archon declare that we'd leave them as a monument to human stupidity, and a reminder of what could go wrong if we let a bunch of giant bugs who read too much crummy evolutionary psychology when they were undergraduates run our society?_ said a second familiar mind voice, that of her Mamoru.

_:Mamo-chan! Where were you when I called a few moments ago?_

_:One of our time-travelling future children dropped in for a snack, and traumatised the household Servus with a passing remark. Apparently their distant descendants will be able to sleep at night without a Draka checking under their beds for monsters. The poor dears were quite upset, so I had to comfort them. Twice. Each. Because everyone else was off hunting ferals, or mewed up in a lab and not answering her transducer. The things I do in the name of Domination..._

_:Poor Mamo-chan. Don't tell me it wasn't fun._

_:Well, they were most endearingly grateful, but it's just not the same without my darling killer bunny girl._

_:Would you stop flirting, please, and remind us,_ said Rei, _:why we're not going to listen to the Archon's order and leave the idiot feral serfs on Planet Bore to their unimaginative little games?_

_:It wasn't an order,_ Usagi said, _:only a suggestion. And some of them were sniffing around on our planet. I'm sure Uncle Genma will understand._

* * *

Here endeþ ðe chapter. 


	2. Excuse me, Mistress?

﻿ FIC: Sailor Draka of Bore, Part 2  
Sailor Draka of Bore, Part 2  
Another extremely silly fanfic by Andrew yclept Aelfwine.  
The characters and situations of the Draka series are copyright S.M. Stirling. The characters and situations of "Sailor Moon" are copyright Takeuchi Naoko. The characters and situations of Ranma ½ are copyright Takahashi Rumiko. The characters and situations of the Gor series are copyright John Norman. They may not be used or reproduced commercially without permission. The use of these characters and situations is not to be construed as challenge to said copyright. They are merely borrowed for this work of non-commercial fanfiction, from which the author derives no financial benefit.

Warnings: Parody. Silliness. Bad garb. Sentences beginning with "Too..." Sexual references. Heterosexuality. Lesbianism. Bisexuality. Lack of violence. Lack of explicit sexual detail. Cuddling. Consciousness-raising. Improper capitalisation. Proper capitalisation. Draka modalities, filtered through anime modalities. Cute genetically engineered post-human warriors in sailor suits. Cute genetically engineered post-human warriors out of sailor suits. Talking cats with gender-incongruous names. Yours truly.

No Draka or serfs were harmed during the making of this fic.

* * *

If you've not seen the first bit of this, you might want to have a look at Sailor Draka of Bore, Part 1

* * *

"Excuse me... Mistress?" came a small voice from the direction of the cloaked spacecraft.

"Damn!" Usagi snarled. "The reek of those five idiots covered up whoever else was in that bucket of bolts, didn't it?" She sniffed again. "Female, unmodified human, post-pubescent, should be wearing a nicer perfume."

"Your pardon, Mistress! Allow me to lock myself in a rack so that You may beat me as You please!"

"Excuse me?" Usagi said.

The girl who crept out of the cloaking field was a tiny–fifteen centimetres shorter than Usagi, who was herself shorter than a Drakensis was, strictly speaking, supposed to be–blonde, dressed in nothing but a metal collar and a few carefully positioned rags, something like the bizarre clothing which the Yankees had worn when swimming, before the Final War. "You are a Free Woman, Mistress. So, i must do as You would wish and present myself for whipping." She shivered slightly. _Silly clothes,_ Usagi thought. _I'd much rather have her either more dressed or not at all. But the effect's not completely unappealing._

"Whyever would I want to whip you, wench? You ain't done nothing disobedient yet. And besides, I'm a grown...well, almost...woman of the Draka. I can't believe a slip of a wench like you would need anything more than a touch of spanking. And surely, if I did feel the need to correct your fetching little self, I'd hardly need a fucking rack to hold you down while I was doing it."

"Free Women hate insignificant and valueless slave girls like myself, Mistress."

"Well, not on Earth they don't. Draka women love cuddly little serf girls. Even more than Draka men do. Now come here."

The girl knelt at Usagi's feet. _About my age,_ Usagi thought, _though I ain't such a good judge of these here unmodifieds._ "May this insignificant girl ask You a question, Mistress?"

Usagi sighed. "Go ahead, wench. One-Eyed Odin knows I ain't got nothin' else to do just now."

"Mistress is kind! Where are the valiant Warriors of Mistress' bodyguard who slew this girl's former Masters?"

"You're looking at 'em, girl."

The little serf peered cautiously about. "Forgive this insignificant female animal, Mistress, but..."

"In other words, pretty serf, I did it. I'm Usagi Ingolfsson of the Domination of the Draka, and I'm my own bodyguard."

"Mistress? Truly? The women of your people carry weapons? Are you like the... the Drop Bear Girls of the vast forests of Gor who hunt game and drop on Men from the trees, defeating the weak ones who fail to fully express their masculine superiority and using them viciously in defiance of the iron laws of human evolution and the Pastor Archdukes?"

"Merciful Freya, no! I like men. I mean, you can joke all you like about men for amusement and women for pleasure, but I love my Mamo-chan. And so does our girlfriend.

"Besides, I didn't need any weapons for those clumsy twits."

The girl's eyes were wide. _She's kind of cute,_ Usagi thought. _I reckon I'll keep her._ "Mistress slew the mercenaries Stin'ki and Bub'a of the tribe of Woodchux and the Warriors Gluteus Maximus and Fattus Arsus of the City of Not-A-Joke, and the Slaver Dubius Platipus of O'r'ly? With only her bare hands?"

Usagi snickered. "Bare everything, silly wench. I was taking a swim when those so-called Masters stopped by and decided to mess with the Race. Ain't people on your planet ever heard of the Domination of the Draka?"

The girl cringed. "Too, Mistress, this stupid girl is only a slave, and therefore she is badly informed. But she was serving the red p'unch of Hawai'i at the table of the Slaver Dubius Platipus when the Slaver planned his Voyage of Acquisitiveness to the planet Urth, and she heard several Men say that no such Voyage has returned to Gor in some hundred circlings of the Sun. Dubius Platipus mocked them for their display of less than manly modalities. 'Too,' he said, 'in my youth the Men of Gor were True Men of Gor, and the great flying Terns were True great flying Terns, and the massive riding lizards on which warriors ride were True massive riding lizards on which warriors ride, and the little carp which swim in the canals of Pork Bar and eat rubbish were True little carp which swim in the canals of Pork Bar and eat rubbish, and glrb'l-ark-snore.' And that is what the slaver Dubius Platipus said."

"'Glrb'l-ark-snore'? Translation, please?"

"The Slaver Dubius Platipus had drunk much of the red p'unch and the fermented pogo made of the golden grain SoTurgid which is grown by the Caste of Farmers who, though poor, are proud and free and possess HomePages of their own, Mistress. With those sounds he lapsed into the masterly slumber of a Gorean master."

"Right. Well, my girl, let's get a few things straight. First off, what's your name? I'm growing mighty tired of saying 'girl' and 'wench' and 'serf' all the time."

"A slave owns nothing, Mistress, not even a name. This insignificant female animal is called whatever You wish."

"Spare me," Usagi said. "Now look, my Race owns three planets and a whole passel of moons and stations and asteroids and things. We don't have any giant bugs bossing us around, saying we can have magic lightbulbs and we can have wonder drugs but we cain't have guns and we cain't have better aircraft than a bunch of big smelly seagulls. We've got us, and we've got _Servus_ who, well, serve us. They're perfectly lovely people, not insignificant animals of either gender, and they certainly have names of their own. So, tell me yours."

"my name is whatever You wish, Mistress. But this girl was last called 'bubbles'."

"Thor's balls, girl, how in Niflheim do you do that capitalisation and lower case thing? No, don't tell me, I don't want to know. Can't you say 'I' and 'you' like a normal person?"

"On Gor, such speech is only permitted to Free Persons, Mistress."

"Well, girl, here on Earth even serfs are allowed to use the first person singular nominative pronoun as often as necessary, and to capitalise it. In fact, it's required of them, as is not capitalising the second person pronoun. So why don't you start?"

"This girl will try, Mistress. But it is some years since she was free, and spoke as a Free... sorry, Mistress... a free person does."

"Better," Usagi said, and gave her a pat on the head. The girl pressed herself into the caress, rather sweetly. "Now then, what's your name? Your real name, I mean, 'cause Freya knows I cain't stand that 'Bubbles' thing. What'd your mama call you?"

"This... i mean, i mean, I mean, Mistress... it is some time since... she... I was enslaved at the fall of the great city of Mal-I-Bu... but my mother called me... 'Trixie.' As did my father, the Goober of the City, Ziggius of the noble house of Stardustus." Usagi sighed mentally. _Trixie? Well, it'll do._

"Nicely said, honey. Trixie you are."

"Mistress approves my name?" If the girl hadn't been kneeling, Usagi suspected, she would have bounced up and down in place with delight. _Cute. Definitely._

"Surely. It's better than Bubbles. And if I had to come up with a cute name for you, it'd probably end up being 'Bellatrix' or something. We Draka don't do cute very well, I'm afraid." Usagi reached down and stroked Trixie's hair again.

Eyes half-closed, the little Gorean arched her back and murmured "I think Mistress does cute extremely well." Suddenly her eyes went wide open. "Mistress, please, forgive! This insolent girl has always suffered from counter-evolutionary urges towards perverse and unnatural behaviour of a sort which is only permitted slave girls on those occasions when it pleases the masculine modalities of their Masters! Would Mistress have this girl bring the whip?"

Usagi shook her head. "Nonsense, Trixie. If'n I wanted to punish you, I'd punish you, no need for any Loki-taken whip or other nonsense. And do you mean to say that girls having fun with girls is considered 'perverse and unnatural behaviour' on that Gods-forsaken planet Bore of yourn?"

Trixie blushed. "Yes, Mistress. It is only permissible when it is done to please the Masters. But even that is permitted only in moderation, lest it distract them from their male bonding and cause them to think that such rituals as the sharing of sweat and pogo and manly tears and embraces and kisses on the lips might mean some other thing than the brotherly bonds of brethren. Other than that, the things done by girls with girls have no evolutionary function and are thus forbidden by the wise Pastor-Archdukes."

"But the stuff men do with slave girls does? Even though all y'all are drinking magic contraceptive Koolaid an' cain't have babies 'less y'all drink the magic anti-contraceptive Koolaid first?"

"Yes, Mistress. The Pastor-Archdukes and the Philosopher Nor'man J'hon have said so."

"Well, Trixie, they're all full of giant seagull shit, Freya damn 'em to nine hells. Let's have us a little lesson in... feminine modalities, Domination of the Draka-style."

"Mistress?"

Usagi dropped to her knees, facing the Gorean. "This, cute girl." She pulled her into a hug and kissed her.

"Truly, Mistress?" Trixie said, when at last their lips parted.

"Yes. But only if you want to. I am an Ingolfsson, and a pretty sailor-suited Warrior for Justice besides. There's some things I just cain't do, even for the sake of national tradition."

"Mistress is... a liberator!" Trixie kissed her.

"You've got no idea how strange it is for a Draka to hear that," Usagi said. "But thank you very much, sweetie." A little mental tickle came through her transducer link _:So, Killer Bunny Girl, what's about that conquest you were talking about? Find a cute wench or something?_

_:Exactly, Mamo-chan,_ she thought in reply. _:Now let me alone for a bit, AK? She's shy, and I don't want you and Rei-chan scaring her just yet._

_:Oh? Not going to share?_

_:Of course I'll share. But she's going to take a little gentling, first._

_:Wild feral wench?_

_:The very opposite. I've got to, well... free her mind. Raise her consciousness. Teach her that she's more than just a toy for some beefy moron in a bedsheet toga._

_:You realise that if Captain Samothrace and Samothracian Maid hear about this they'll never let us live it down?_

_:I'll take that risk._

_:Can we watch a bit through your eyes?_

_:sigh All right..._

_:Yay!_

"Now, Trixie," Usagi said, "do you really like wearing that makeup?"

"Not really, Mistress. But the Masters require it..."

"Which is more proof that their heads are full of what comes out of those big smelly birds they ride around on. Now, let's have us a bath and wash the silly cosmetics off your pretty face." Usagi sniffed the wind, just in case--_Freya bless, Cousin Ranma, have you and your fiancées got nothing else to do today?_--and put her hand to the Transformation Pendant at her throat, phasing her clothes away. This done, she stood and reached down to help her new pet to her feet. "Come along, Trixie Stardustus d'Ingolfsson."

A couple of hours later, they lay snuggled in a nest of blankets streamside. "So, Trixie," Usagi murmured drowsily, "just why did those idjits have you along, anyhow? Does some Boring version of Schrödinger's Cat mean that their manliness might disappear if there wasn't a slave girl to see it?"

"Actually, Mistress, they needed me to fly their ship."

"What? I knew they were dumb as rocks, but ain't that a bit much?"

"Only the great Terns which must be kicked in the head on occasion are appropriate things for manly men drenched in the male modalities of Gor to fly, Mistress. As ships which fly in space do not require kicking in the head, and thus do not allow manly men to demonstrate their manly dominance, they are obviously fit only to be piloted by slave girls."

"Freya's tits. We really do have to do something about that planet, don't we?"

"If you say so, Mistress."

"You know, Trixie, I reckon I do say so."

"More importantly, I say so," said a talking cat which quite suddenly perched itself on Usagi's feet.

"Get away, you! We're not dressed!"

"And you're also a Draka, so you have no nudity taboo whatsoever, Usagi Ingolfsson. And I don't expect your little muffin there has got much of one, either. Besides, you're both covered to the neck with blankets."

"Whatever. Get you gone before you scare my Trixie! Is that better?"

"Slightly. Except that she doesn't seem to be very frightened."

"Mistress, do furry animals like this one ordinarily talk on your planet?"

"Only a few of them. Trixie, meet Artemis. Artemis, meet Trixie Stardustus d'Ingolfsson. Now, Artemis, would you go away and leave Trixie and me alone? Maybe you could go bug Mamoru and Rei, they've got nothing better to do."

_:Not true! The household Servus insist that they're still quite traumatised._

_:Shut up, darlings, please?_

"Mistress? Isn't Artemis a feminine name?"

"Yes, sweetling."

"Then why does this cat with a feminine name speak in a baritone voice?"

"She's in her drag persona. When she's not performing, she's a minor Agriculture Directorate bureaucrat named Yoshi T. Featherstone-Haugh III."

He hissed. "I am not!"

"Well, you should be. Go on! Scoot!"

"No!"

Usagi sighed. "Very well. You leave me no choice. In the Name of Uninterrupted Cuddling With Cute Girls, Sailor Draka Catnip Mouse Attack!" A furry mouse-shaped object appeared in her hand, faintly glowing and emitting a strong odor of potent herb. With all the enhanced strength of her H. Drakensis arm, she flung it to the west. Yowling with frustration, the cat chased it into the distance.

"Peace at last," Usagi said. "With any luck at all, his girlfriend will catch scent of it as well and we'll be free of feline meddling for the rest of the day."

* * *

Here endeþ ðe chapter. 


End file.
